


A Fixed Arrangement

by Good_Ol_Jinx_Mgee



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Deviates From Canon, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Good_Ol_Jinx_Mgee/pseuds/Good_Ol_Jinx_Mgee
Summary: Sibha is a young Breton trying to make her way in Skyrim. However, on a trip to Riften, she meets a mysterious man who seems to know more about her than she's comfortable with.And the worst part? So do the guards, it would seem.So what happens when an honest girl with good intent meets the dishonest thief with an unknown one?Well, she steals the thief's heart, of course.This is an ofc/ Brynjolf fic bc there's like none?? I don't want to focus on the Dragonborn aspect of the PC, so I won't. Sibha is only how I'll describe her. She also lends from Saadia's story, a bit.This is going to be derive from the Thieves Guild questline and, to quote George St. Geegland, will take me, and you, way way way out of our comfort zones.





	1. Chapter 1

When she arrives through the gates of Riften, she is, in some ways, reminded of home. The trees are the same- golden in their leaves and pale in their bark. The charming buildings and sparkling waters give off a facade of safety and comfort. Of course, if rumor lent to truth, Riften was anything but safe. Sibha was naturally wary, since she'd been eavesdropping on the other travellers. She'd caught a carriage from Markarth and travelled all the way across Skyrim, giving her plenty of time to hear stories and rumors about the ancient land.

Sibha, being a Breton, grew up in Daggerfall. But, given recent circumstances, she was forced to flee to Skyrim, a place as unfamiliar to her as almost the whole of her home province. And, she figured, if she needed to hide, then the best place to do it was on the other side of the map. 

And, apparently, she was not alone in that.

There were a variety of people in the caravan with her- old and young, men and women, those of good reputation and otherwise. And they all said the same thing:  
Riften was the absolute worst.

Sure, Markarth was corrupt as Daedra, and Windhelm was full of racist Stormcloaks, but Riften? You could hardly step foot outside your home without being stabbed or robbed.

Surely, Sibha thought, they will not follow me here.

It is midday when Sibha arrives, her hand wrapped tightly around a dagger under her cloak. Of course, she is adept at spellcasting, but mages are peculiar almost anywhere you go, and the last thing she wants to do is draw attention to herself anymore than her appearance already does. She is average height, but darker in skin with deep auburn hair. Among Nords, she sticks out like a rabid skeever. And judging by the looks she gets, they might just think her one.

The marketplace is bustling, despite the lack of vendors. There's a mean looking woman selling armor, an Argonian selling jewelry, and an elf selling weapons. At least there is diversity here, Sibha thinks. 

And then there is a man circling the market like a hawk. He also has auburn hair, but wears much finer clothes than Sibha. He watches the Elf as he stalks around, and Sibha makes a mental note to stay away from him.

Sibha looks for somewhere inside to seclude herself and plan out her next step. There is an inn beside the market, and though it's closer to the city gates than she would have preferred, it will have to do. But, as she goes for the door, she finds her path partially blocked by a form in gray.

“Never done an honest day's work in your life for all that coin you're carrying, eh lass?”

Sibha stares hard at the door, the grip on her dagger tightening. She looks up at the man standing over her and is anxious when she finds it is the same one she saw watching the Elf. Only now, he is watching her. His eyes bore into hers and she looks away.

“What?” she asks.

“That coin. I'm willing to wager it wasn't all earned cleanly.”

Now, Sibha knows when to keep her head down, but she is also proud. And, despite what recent events would leave you to believe, she had earned all of her coin honestly, and she isn't too keen on this stranger insinuating otherwise.

“It was. Now, if you don't mind-” Sibha says, trying to push past him. But he blocks her again.

“How about a way to make some real coin? Something more than you're carrying?”

Sibha rolls her eyes.

“I'm not interested. I saw the way you were looking at that Elf. I have no interest in anything you're doing and if you don't let me pass, I'll call the guard.”

The man looks at her, his eyes wide and shocked at her fortitude, and he laughs.

“The guards? Lass, it doesn't take a fellow criminal to know that you're trying to keep a low profile.”

“I am not a criminal,” she growls. He matches her stare.

“Then call the guards.”

Sibha stares daggers at him, trying to convey the thoughts she's having without saying a word. Once he realizes she won't do a thing, he smiles and, to her surprise, opens the door for her.

“Why don't I buy you a drink and offer you the opportunity of a lifetime, eh lass?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brynjolf offers Sibha a deal and she tries to outdrink him.

Sibha sits in the dimly lit inn, looking around at the other patrons. Some of them notice her, others are too far into their drink. The inn is owned by a couple of Argonians, and they go out of their way to be hospitable. Sibha sits quietly as Brynjolf buys them both bottles of Nord Mead- something Sibha never acquired a taste for. But she drinks it, if not to appease the strange man. He sits down next to her- not across from her, as the square table would have suggested, but next to. She fights the urge to move away from him.

“Sorry, don’t mean to invade, but these matters are quite sensitive.”

“Not sure what matters you mean,” Sibha says.

“Come now,” he says. “The least you can do is hear what I have to say.”

Sibha watches the woman from the stands as she glares at her. “The least I can do is rent a room and forget about you entirely.”

“And yet you haven’t,” he says with a smile. “So, I have a plan that requires very little work, but much skill.”

Sibha takes a big drink. “And why don’t you do it yourself?”

“Because then there would be no distractions. Besides, I need someone unknown in Riften. I would most certainly draw attention.”

“Sounds like you aren't a very good thief, then.”

Sibha says it before she can stop herself. If anything were to get her in trouble here, it would be her tongue. She looks to him to gauge his reaction. He's still smiling.

“My, lass. Don't you have quite the spirit. Fair enough. I need to teach the Elf Brand-Shei a lesson. I'm looking for someone to steal a ring from the Argonian's stand and slip it into Brand-Shei's lockbox. That would be you. Meanwhile, I'll be providing you will a tantalizing distraction- one to keep everyone in the marketplace from noticing you. Once you're done, I'll pay you.”

Sibha takes a long drink. “Still not interested.”

She thinks this will determine him, but he smiles still. He pats the table. “It's getting late. Why don't you think about it and find me in the morning? You know, if you change your mind.”

He stands and tosses a few septims on the table.

“I won't,” Sibha says. Somehow, he is still smiling. How can he be so persistent?

“You never know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short but thank you for reading it still!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm new to fanfiction so I hope you enjoyed! I'll try to keep Brynjolf as in character as possible and Sibha equally as interesting.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!!


End file.
